The lavish new National Center for the Performing Arts is deemed odd-looking and tickets are too pricey for many Chinese.

The dome of the new National Center for the Performing Arts glows luminescent as it emerges from a reflecting pool like a pearl or a rising sun. At least that's the impression the French architects of Beijing's arts center wanted to create.

The $360-million complex, an extravaganza of titanium and glass bigger than New York's Lincoln Center or Washington's Kennedy Center, is supposed to shout out to the world that Beijing has arrived, both as an economic and cultural capital. But to many here, the center resembles nothing grander than an egg plunked into a pot of boiling water.

In fact, since it opened in December, the building has already acquired the nickname of "the egg."

"Egg" is not a flattering epithet in Chinese, being attached to various insults such as ben dan (stupid egg) and huai dan (rotten egg). (There is no "good egg" in Chinese slang.)

"Personally, I do not like the nickname 'the egg,' but everybody has a right to express his opinion," Deng Yijiang, vice president of the center, said during a recent Chinese New Year reception.

French architect Paul Andreu's design was selected in 1998 by the Standing Committee of the Politburo of the Communist Party's Central Committee, which decreed it would "contribute to the development of Chinese spiritual civilization, advanced social culture and harmonious society," according to an exhibit in the center's lobby.

Among the rejected proposals was a building resembling a clock radio and one that looked like a giant Snickers bar.

The positioning of the ellipsoidal dome in the middle of the pool is meant as a tribute to the ancient Chinese concept of round sky and square earth. But many traditionalists find the modernistic design a disruption to the feng shui, or harmony, of Beijing and therefore the nation.

The capital of the Middle Kingdom is laid out in a series of concentric circles around the Forbidden City, the former residence of the emperors, and the arts center is adjacent to the sacred inner circle. The site is just to the west of Tiananmen Square's Great Hall of the People and so close to the country's most famous portrait of Mao Tse-tung that some say the founder of communist China is raising an eyebrow in astonishment at the outrageous architecture.

"It looks like a quasi-foreign devil in the historic palace area," sneered a 52-year-old blogger who goes by the name Lao Youer. "If you weren't told it was the national theater, you would probably think it was an oil tank or a huge warehouse."

Twenty-first century Beijing has become a showcase for some of the world's most audacious buildings. Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas' $600-million headquarters for Chinese Central Television struts across the Beijing skyline on two legs like a giant robot, so big that it resembles a modern-day Colossus of Rhodes. ("Like a pair of trousers. Imagine how awful it would be to work in the crotch," a 25-year-old insurance auditor wrote on a popular blog.)

The 100,000-seat Olympic stadium designed by the Swiss firm Herzog & de Meuron has been dubbed the "bird's nest" for its elaborate webbing of steel beams.

Striking to be sure, but critics complain that these new buildings are like the preposterous outfits fashion models flaunt on the runways: interesting to look at, but you wouldn't be caught wearing one in real life.

"These European architects are doing things in China they wouldn't dare do at home. They're using China as their testing grounds," said Peng Peigen, an architecture professor at Qinghua University in Beijing.

One of the most outspoken critics of the new edifices, Peng was the author of a 2004 letter that academics sent to Premier Wen Jiabao protesting the building awards to foreign architects.

Peng's objections have less to do with aesthetics than with cost and safety. The new Olympic stadium, Peng insists, uses as much steel as four stadiums. The design of the national arts center in the center of a pool means the entrances and exits are underground, making it difficult to evacuate the building in an emergency.

"You would have to run 250 meters [820 feet] from your seat to get out in a fire," Peng said. "That would never be allowed under the building codes anywhere in the United States or Canada."

A coincidence that gave credence to the critics was the collapse in May 2004 of a terminal designed by the same architect at Charles de Gaulle International Airport in Paris. Four people were killed.

The arts center is not really a single building but a cluster of three theaters -- an opera house, concert hall and traditional Chinese theater -- under the vast dome. Entry is via a long staircase under the reflecting pool.

The box office, main lobby and an exhibition about the architecture are in this basement level. A long corridor leads to the center of the complex, a large atrium encased by the dome.